


There are no winners here

by crinkly



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Spoilers, rivamika
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 04:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crinkly/pseuds/crinkly
Summary: Survival doesn't necessarily equate to victory.Set after CH138.
Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Mikasa Ackerman
Comments: 22
Kudos: 99





	There are no winners here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tofus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofus/gifts).



> Hi guys! This is my first RM work. I originally intended this to be a one shot, but I changed my mind. Will probably edit this chapter a bit more later in the day. Enjoy

The steam curls through the air like a lover’s embrace, passionate and scorching into his skin.

The crashing of hollow limbs and the whirring steam is an indication of her success. There is pride in his heart, but it’s overshadowed by heavy coils of dread. If she succeeded, then they need to act now. Too slow, and she is nothing but scorched remains.

“Mikasa!” Levi shouts. Her name leaves a bitter taste upon his tongue. He is rigid and tense, fingers and palms digging uselessly into the feathers beneath him. “ _Fuck!_ ”

A resounding screech sounds from below, a wordless confirmation. Levi feels his body tilt, the trajectory changing as Falco maneuvers a sharp turn. He’s less than hopeful about their odds of survival, but still makes a note to graciously thank the boy when (if) things are settled. 

A wheeze pushes through his lips. It’s getting harder to breathe with every second, and Levi can’t help but worry for Falco, deep within the sinews of his avian form. The heat is thick, heady, and almost unbearable. He feels it sliding coarsely against his wounds, grating into the lacerations that riddle his body, and Levi wants to scream. But there are knives stuck within the ridges of his throat, and so Levi settles for clenching his teeth instead. Focuses on the objective at hand.

It feels like an eternity before they get close enough to see something, _anything_.

And –

_Late._

Too slow, Levi laments.

She’s probably nothing but a lifeless husk, sizzled and scorched by the eviscerating remnants that belonged to the boy who sacrificed all for freedom. Or, in an act of twisted fate, she’s been devoured. Snatched by the greedy jaws of those that once bled and cried and celebrated by their side. Or --

_What the fuck._

These are terrible, irrational thoughts. Levi knows this. They are not conducive toward decisive action, and Levi can’t help but feel smaller than he’s ever had since childhood. But optimism is a luxury he’s never been lucky enough to grasp, and to hope is to be feckless. He’s come to this conclusion a long time ago.

Hope is nothing but a mere blip of childish naivety, ephemeral in nature. It leaves nothing but a void that encapsulates his being.

It’s a beat before the smoke begins to settle, and Levi can almost make out a pile of hollow bones crumbling into itself. Levi wonders if Armin’s titan is within that mess. He feels the crack in his heart deepen even further.

Closing in on the wreckage are scores of the titanized, disproportionate limbs twisting and flailing. There is a dull sting when acrid bile rises in his throat. He tries not to think about it, but Levi recognizes a few faces in the crowd, their features heavily contorted into a mockery of their human countenance. Tearing his gaze from the grotesque sight, he continues scanning for any sign of wispy black hair, or a red scarf blowing in the wind.

He can’t see anything, save for the specks of burning ember dissipating from the remains. Levi has all but prepared himself for the worse, but the feeling of loss still permeates through his being, wrapping its wiry digits around his heart with a heavy squeeze _._

_Where are you?_

Levi is Humanity’s Strongest – not that there’s much of that left anymore – but even he is not impervious to tears.

-

He doesn’t see her until he does.

The sun glares through the clouds. The wind brushes his face. A tangled mass of limbs rockets through the now translucent steam down, _down_ –

And then he’s met with a pair of cerulean orbs, narrowed tightly in sheer determination. Steam is flowing off his skin, and unmistakable indentations litter across his cheeks.

Clasped tightly in Armin’s hold is a familiar frame. 

Levi feels his pulse stop.

And then they’re tumbling, rolling gracelessly over the back of Falco’s titan. It’s the momentum that thrusts Armin and Mikasa dangerously close to the edge and into the leering faces below. Levi shoots his arms out, snatching Armin by his forearms and yanks, saving the pair from imminent death. Armin lands roughly near Levi’s right. He’s panting, exhausted by both his propulsive escape and the critical injuries inflicted by his fallen brother.

Levi catches Mikasa _,_ body limp as she collapses onto him. He hisses in pain, but Levi can’t find it in himself to care too much, doesn’t even care that the scarf catches the wind and whips him straight in the face. Levi watches with bated breath as Mikasa finally wills herself to move, shifting her body off his. She sits on her heels, almost robotically, before him.

“Heichou,” says Mikasa, shaky in her breathing. “…I did it...” She trains her gaze over his shoulder, eyes shimmering until a single tear rolls down the curve of her cheek. And in that moment, Levi pulls Mikasa back into his arms.

Rests his chin atop her head.

“Calm down, I’ve got you,” he murmurs. Levi holds her as though she were a glass figurine as she trembles, though he knows she is anything but. He isn’t surprised by her unguarded display of emotion, understands all too well that even the strongest need to grieve. He’s reluctant and unsure of how to comfort her; but when Mikasa rests her forehead on his shoulder, grief almost palpable, Levi finds himself holding her even tighter.

“You did well.” He’s not sure what else to say. There's a sudden urge to stroke her hair, to tell her everything will be okay, but Levi squashes that impulse before he oversteps any more boundaries between the two.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he hears someone shuffling close by. Levi flits his gaze, watches as Armin sits up to shakily press his fist against his heart. A minute smile flits across Armin’s face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s nothing but trepidation and a sense of urgency that reside within them.

Levi understands.

They’re still soaring through the sky. Falco may be reaching his limit. Sooner than later, they’ll need to land somewhere. And –

“Captain, I think the rumbling…has stopped, but...” Armin shoots a cursory glance toward the ground, and then locks eyes with Levi again. “Annie, Reiner, and Pieck…”

It’s then that Levi feels something moving in his arms. Mikasa pulls a little from Levi’s embrace. She’s still close, close enough that he could see the glistening of her eyelashes. And then she lifts her chin, nearly headbutting Levi in the process.

“We can’t let them die.” Her voice is even, despite how she’s blinking rapidly to clear the moisture clouding her vision. Mikasa’s eyes are still glazed with unshed tears, but there’s a spark of resolve in lieu of anguish and loss.

Levi stiffens, glances at the chaos below. “We’re _not_ going down there.” He fixes his gaze back onto Mikasa, suddenly feeling even more exhausted, watching her eyes narrowed into slits.

“They can’t handle this on their own! We don’t need any more senseless death,” Mikasa hisses, flinging his own words right back at him. 

“And none of us are in any shape to help,” Levi shoots back. “Right now, we’re liabilities at best, and titan fodder at worst.”

Mikasa narrows her eyes. “And so you’re supposing we _abandon_ them, Heichou?” 

Imperceptibly, Levi flinches at her the venom in her tone. He isn’t sure if she’s noticed. 

“It’s that, or we’re all screwed,” he retorts. Tilts his head. “Or do you want them to die in vain?”

Mikasa opens her mouth, no doubt a scalding remark on her tongue, but Armin interjects. 

“Wait,” Armin breathes, voice almost too faint to hear. “The worm, it’s gone, heichou. Mikasa. Look,” Armin points at where Eren’s founding titan once was. The parasitic looking entity was nowhere to be found.

“We can’t be too sure of that,” Levi retorts flatly. “How would you know it didn’t retreat into some titan’s ass?”

“We would have seen it,” Mikasa says through gritted teeth.

“I also think it’s safe enough to assume it won’t reappear for now,” Armin adds, “thanks to Mikasa.” 

_For killing Eren_ , Levi thinks. It’s what Armin is insinuating, of course. 

Mikasa’s hand flies up to her scarf, clutching the worn material desperately. She looks away, posture overly stiff.

Pain flits across Armin’s face.

Nevertheless, he continues with his assessment. “What I’m saying is this: there’s a chance to save them. It’s not the best, and the odds are certainly against us, but...it’s something.” 

Levi frowns. “So then what? We risk our lives on this shitty chance?” Levi challenges, jerking his chin toward the battlefield. “Tell me, are you alright with letting your comrades’ sacrifices be in vain?” 

“Of course not,” Armin responds. “Assuming that there are more than a few aberrants down there, it’d be suicide to try and fight them. So we stay on Falco and maintain a higher altitude. And if they can _eject_ themselves…”

“...You’re saying that they could then propel themselves onto Falco,” Levi finishes.

Armin nods emphatically. “Like the way that Pieck used her titan to maneuver around the founding titan.” And the way Armin arrived not too long ago. 

“So how do you propose we let them know?” 

“I’m not sure yet,” Armin admits. “I doubt they’d hear us yelling.” 

Mikasa interjects, “I can get to them with my gear.” Her eyes flit briefly to Levi, and looks away when he visibly cringes. “I still have gas,” she stubbornly finishes, despite the visceral disapproval emanating from their captain.

“No. I could demonstrate it to them,” Armin suggests. He takes a deep breath, and stretches his arms. “I can handle one more shift.” 

“You don’t need to,” Mikasa argues. “I’m strong. And uninjured. I can do it.” Meanwhile, Armin shakes his head in disagreement. 

“Look,” Levi interrupts. “We don’t have time. We need to decide what to do now.” 

“I’ll do it,” Armin answers without a beat.

“Armin--” 

“And if I get overrun…”

Mikasa looks away.

“Don’t be a martyr,” Levi simply says. “Don’t let it get to that point.” 

Armin nods after a moment. “I’ll try my best.”

Their worlds tilt once more as Falco wordlessly assents. 

They brace themselves for what’s to come.

**Author's Note:**

> So I know that I didn't really focus much on Mikasa's chaotic state of mind. I did this on purpose. I plan to dedicate part of the next chapter to Mikasa's POV after she does the deed...hehehe
> 
> Also 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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